Inevitable Destiny
by Frank Rochetansky
Summary: John Jameson puts his wedding to Mary Jane Watson on hold, suspecting that she still has feelings for an ex boyfriend. A furious Mary Jane blames Peter Parker for ruining her engagement, but finds that she cannot run from her inevitable destiny.
1. Chapter 1

**INEVITABLE DESTINY**

**By Frank P. Rochetansky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters nor has Marvel or Sony given me permission to use them. But I'm not interested in making money off this story, so what the h . . . **

**Author's note: I would like to thank the fan fic writers who inspired this piece with their very fine work, including Betty Brant, Jjonahjameson, HTBThomas and Georgia Kennedy. **

**Chapter One**

Peter Parker stared longingly through the mirrored eyepieces of his mask at the well-lit billboard on Bleecker Street. From his vantage point, he was looking down upon the beautiful red-head with the Mona Lisa smile. _The most beautiful . . . gorgeous . . . unattainable woman that God ever created_, he thought sadly. In a few weeks, she was going to marry another man, and there was not a thing he could do about it.

Peter realized that he was probably deluding himself when he tried to talk Mary Jane out of it. He had reason to hope when she seemed glad that he had finally made it to her play and happy to take a walk with him through Chinatown. When she gazed at him, he thought he saw a clear, unmistakable longing in those forest-colored eyes. But the minute he suggested that they grab a bite, she turned from him and hailed a taxi, going out of her way to make it clear to him that she was going to marry Captain John Jameson of the United States Air Force, astronaut and glamorous all-American boy. It was though her mind had made itself up and was refusing to let her heart speak for itself. Peter hoped that she might change her mind about the wedding and give him a call. But alas, the call never came.

Maybe it's just as well, Peter reflected despondently as he continued to stare at Mary Jane's billboard, his hopes for even a small semblance of a normal life now all but gone. Fed up with playing hero after Mary Jane had announced her engagement, he threw his costume into a garbage can and tried to walk away from Spider-Man once and for all. But no sooner had he quit when things started happening. A college kid his age, probably one of his fellow students at E.S.U., had been assaulted by three leather-clad toughs. Acting on an impulse over which he had no conscious control and unable to stop himself, Peter broke up the attack, sent the punks running, and got the victim to a hospital. Then that fire broke out, and he nearly lost his lungs in rescuing a little girl. But when he heard that someone else in the building didn't make it out alive, he knew that he could no longer run from his destiny. There was no normal life for him to go back to. All that was left was his power, and his responsibility. And so, having no choice but to carry on, he reluctantly retrieved his costume and wearily assumed his responsibilities once more. But his awareness of his inevitable destiny only made the loss of Mary Jane more painful and bitter.

In the midst of his melancholy, Peter's spider-sense suddenly flared. Then a piercing scream echoed through the cold night air. With reflexes honed to razor-sharp perfection and lightning speed, he leaped off the ledge toward the source of the scream.

A woman was running for her life, being chased down by a gang of dangerous looking thugs, all wearing sleeveless leather jackets and sporting the insignia of a notorious street gang. In her fright, the woman had tripped on an empty beer bottle and had fallen to the sidewalk. The punks were closing in on her, all brandishing switchblades. One of them was getting ready to throw his knife, drawing a bead squarely on the woman's chest.

The knife-thrower never even had a chance. Just as he cocked his arm, the blade was knocked out of his hand by a web ball. His compatriots stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of the impact. Before they realized what was going on, they heard a sound behind them that was even more terrifying . . . the sound of boots hitting asphalt. Even in the dark, the hoodlums knew that the hiatus was over.

"Didn't anybody teach you guys how to treat a lady?" Spider-Man quipped as he went after the gang members with a ferocity that belied his wise-guy sense of humor. Moving faster than their eyes could see, Spider-Man incapacitated them with a few strategically placed blows and webbed them to a lamppost. It was all over in a matter of seconds.

That is, for everyone but the knife-thrower. In the heat of the attack, he managed to slip away from Spider-Man's grasp. As the victim was getting to her feet, he grabbed her by the hair and wrapped a big, muscular arm around her neck, covering her face with one hand holding his blade against her throat with the other.

"Back off man, he shouted. "Back off or she's dead!"

_What a hopeless amateur_, Spider-Man practically laughed to himself. This kind of operation was child's play to him. Before the knife-thrower could even react, the weapon and the woman were out of his hands. He felt gloved hands grab his arms and pin them behind his back. Then he felt himself being spun around, lifted off the ground, and held aloft by the lapels of his leather jacket.

"You still don't know what you're dealing with, do you?" Spider-Man intoned ominously with a crisp, theatrical British accent. "A perfect organism. It's structural perfection is matched only by it's hostility."

"You are one crazy son of a bitch!" the would-be assailant hissed.

"Didn't you ever see _Alien_?" Spider-Man retorted. "It was really a great flick. Made me think twice about going into dark places." And without further ado, he hurled the knife-wielder to the ground and tied him up with his colleagues.

With the hoods neutralized and rendered harmless, Peter quickly turned his attention the victim, who was still reeling from her dreadful encounter. "Are you all right, Miss?" he asked, reaching out a hand to gently help her steady herself. But when he saw her face, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. It was the face that he most wanted and least expected to see . . . the face of . . ._ Mary Jane Watson!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: To the reviewer who asked whether this story is AU from Spider-Man 2, the answer is yes.**

**Chapter Two**

Mary Jane was in Peter's arms, sobbing, her face buried in his spandex-covered shoulder. "Shhhhh," he said soothingly, reflexively disguising his voice even as he embraced her. "You're all right now. It's over."

Peter's mind was in complete turmoil. He had to remember that Mary Jane had not seen Spider-Man since the Green Goblin had thrown her off the 59th Street Bridge, nearly a year and a half ago. For him to hold back his feelings for her was sheer agony. More than anything, he wanted to reveal himself to her. But he didn't dare; to do so would be tantamount to a death sentence.

"It's okay," he repeated, "Nobody's gonna hurt you." Mary Jane regained her composure and turned her face toward is, wanting so much for words of loving gratitude to pour out of her. But she was so traumatized by what had happened that all she could manage was a squeaky-voiced, "Hi."

Peter played his casual acquaintance card perfectly. "You're the girl from the alley, aren't you?"

"You . . .you remembered," she whispered.

"Hard to forget a pretty face like yours."

She gave him another hug. "I'm so glad to see you," she practically wept. "I thought you were really gone."

"Nah," he said with an invisible smile. "I . . .um . . . I needed a break. Took a short vacation and look what happens. The place goes to hell in a handbasket." He wiped away her tears with his gloved hand. "Do you think I should hire a sidekick?"

Mary Jane laughed, the sparkle returning to her eyes once more. She no longer felt afraid. In fact, for the first time in almost eighteen months, she truly felt safe.

"Mary Jane, isn't it?" he asked, faking ignorance for the sake of appearances.

"Uh huh,"

"We really need to stop meeting like this," Peter quipped. "I thought you learned your lesson about walking alone at night."

"I know," Mary Jane replied apologetically. "You're absolutely right. I should never have gone out like this. But . . . I was just so . . . confused."

"About what?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Unfortunately, his question had broken the euphoria she felt at seeing her rescuer, because it forced her to confront her reasons for being out so late at night in the first place. She fought to keep her tears in check.

"My life is such a mess right now," she said, barely able to keep her voice from breaking. "I feel like everything is slipping away from me . . . like sand through my fingers."

_Now why on Earth would she think that_, Peter wondered, genuinely puzzled about what could be bothering Mary Jane. A quick glance confirmed what he feared; a five-carat engagement ring was still on her left hand. He would have his answer soon.

"I know you're probably busy and you have to move on," she began slowly. "But right now, I really need to talk to someone." He could almost feel the quiet desperation in her voice.

"Sure, Mary Jane. I'd be happy too. But I'm not exactly Dr. Phil."

"But you care," she replied. "And that's enough for me."

Um . . . would you like me to take you home?"

"No, I can't go back there right now," she answered sadly. "I was thinking more like . . ."

"Like what?"

Mary Jane once again gave him the look that said she wanted him above all others, the same look that he had seen in her eyes during their walk outside the Lyric, but which she refused to acknowledge. "Do you think that you could take me to the top of a building with you?"

"It's kind of chilly up there tonight. You sure you'll be warm enough?"

"I'm sure." she affirmed. "But if I'm not, you can rub my shoulders and massage the back of my neck." She quickly flashed him a sly smile. "That would certainly warm me up."

Despite the constant harping of his rational mind about what a bad idea this was, Peter simply couldn't say no. There was nothing that he wouldn't do for Mary Jane Watson. "Well, okay, if that's what you really want."

"It is," Mary Jane replied with growing confidence. "In fact, I want you to take me to the top of the tallest building in Manhattan."

"I guess that would be the Empire State Building," he said as he prepared to fire his webline. "You'll have to let me strap you down before we can go anywhere. Is this agreeable to you?"

Mary Jane nodded. Peter quickly spun some thick webcords and told Mary Jane to jump on his back. Then he tied them both together very tightly.

"Helps to prevent whiplash while we're in flight. It doesn't mean we're engaged." He suddenly regretted making that remark, thinking she might get offended since she _was_ engaged. But she put him at ease with her gentle laugh.

In no time at all, they were sitting beneath the radio tower of the Empire State Building, over a thousand feet off the ground. Mary Jane was shivering slightly, but seemed able to hold her own.

"Welcome to my office, Mary Jane." Peter joked. "This is where King Kong made his last stand." That little quip got another giggle out of her.

"Great view," she observed, admiring the patterns of light interspersed with vast areas of darkness, which she recognized instantly as Upper and Lower New York Bay.

"I'm glad you like it," Peter said. "I come up here a lot, usually to clear my head."

"I can see why," she replied, following his gaze toward New Jersey.

"Now tell me," he said with gentle encouragement. "why were you out walking alone so late at night when you know it's dangerous?" He almost sounded like a concerned father, the kind of father she always wanted, but never had.

Mary Jane hung her head remorsefully. "I was on my way to see someone."

"Would I know him or her?"

"Him," she answered in a voice that was full of regret, anger, and confusion. "Your 'unofficial photographer.'"

"Parker?" Peter asked, pretending to be confused.

"Yes. I was looking for him so that I could give him a piece of my mind."

_Uh oh,_ Peter thought anxiously, knowing how critical it was for him to keep his roles straight during this conversation. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, as if he and his alter-ego really were two different people.

"Yes, he did," Mary Jane affirmed indignantly. "Peter Parker RUINED my engagement!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: The flashback sequence is largely based on a scene in Peter David's SM-2 book. And a special thank you to conan98002 for providing a little bit of inspiration near the end of the chapter.**

**Chapter Three**

It was impossible for Peter to describe the myriad emotions that were roiling beneath his mask. He imagined that if he were on a couch in a psychologist's office, he would be telling the shrink that he was elated and grief-stricken at the same time. But he could not vent those feelings, not now, not when saying the wrong thing would only make things worse for Mary Jane. He decided that he would try to neutralize her hostility towards him, paradoxically, by agreeing with her. "Parker does sort of have a reverse Midas touch, doesn't he?"

"You got that right," she pouted, reaching into her purse and pulling out a pack of Kleenexes. "Everything he touches turns to sh . . . lead." And before he could even defend himself or his actions toward Mary Jane, she began to tell him her tale of woe about what had transpired earlier that evening.

* * *

"_Mary Jane," John asked, the edginess in his voice obvious. "Are you sure we're not moving too fast? I mean, we're rushing into this thing like there's no tomorrow. I just . . ."_

"_You just what?" Mary Jane interrupted nervously. "Why can't you just stop asking questions and accept that I want to have a life with you? Don't you want to be with me?"_

"_Of course. But I just want to make sure that we're not doing this because you have something you need to prove, or because you're trying to get over someone, or . . ."_

"_John, that's silly," Mary Jane cut him off, her anxiety becoming more pronounced. "Let's not go there tonight."_

"_M.J.," John replied with a gentle firmness. "I think we need to go there. There's something going on that you're not dealing with."_

"_John, for the last time, there's nothing wrong. I'm okay, really." She got up and sat down on her sofa next to him, caressing his cheek. "I'm just a little . . . jittery, that's all. It's just pre-wedding stuff. I'll be over it in a day or two. Please . . . for me . . . for us. Let's just drop it."_

_But John wouldn't drop it. He seemed hell-bent on opening up a lot of his fiancée's old wounds, forcing issues out into the open that she preferred to keep buried. "M.J.," John said distantly as he got up from the sofa and donned his NASA sweatshirt. "I may not be the smartest guy around, but I think my eyes and ears are in perfect working order. Ever since that night you said you had a bad performance, you've had this spaced-out look in your eyes, and every time I ask you what's wrong, you give me this cock'n bull line about everything being hunky dory." He opened her front door. "Well I don't think so. The truth is, I think you're having second thought's about the wedding and you just won't admit it." _

"_No John," Mary Jane pleaded, sensing that something bad was coming and feeling as though all her insecurity buttons were being pushed at the same time. "I'm not having any second thoughts, I swear. I care about you. I want to be with you . . ."_

"_Do you love me?" John asked._

_Mary Jane briefly hesitated. She had wanted to say _yes_ immediately, but it took considerable effort to force the word out of her mouth._

_That fleeting delay was enough for John. "I think we're going to have to re-evaluate this whole situation," he said sadly as he turned away from Mary Jane and walked out into the corridor._

_Mary Jane's face turned white. She followed him into the hall. "Please, for God's sake, don't do this!" she begged, tears beginning to form behind her eyes as she reached for his broad shoulders. "I'll get over it, I promise. Just don't . . ."_

"_M.J." John said, trying reassure her as much as possible. "I didn't mean to suggest that we cancel the wedding outright. I'm just saying that we should stop, catch our breath, and make sure that getting married is really what we both want to do. Let's just put it on hold for a while, that's all."_

"_And how long is 'a while?'" Mary Jane asked, fighting to keep the tears at bay._

"_That depends on you, doesn't it?" John replied firmly. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that being an astronaut's wife isn't easy. You'd be alone a lot of the time, while I'm on a mission or in training. And if I get picked for the big one, you're going to have to deal with reporters and the media and all that. You may have to take a call from the President one day."_

"_Don't you think I can handle those things?" Mary Jane challenged him, her voice on the verge of breaking._

"_Of course I do," John replied resolutely. "But that's not the issue, is it? The issue is whether you want to, and quite frankly, I'm not seeing the one-hundred and ten percent commitment that I think I have a right to expect from my future wife." He extricated himself from Mary Jane's grasp. "I want you to think about it," he reiterated. "Long and hard. If you have any unresolved issues left over from your prior relationships, settle them. Once you do that, we can resume the countdown." He paused momentarily as the elevator doors opened, quickly stepping in and turning around. "Because I've seen what happens when a mission that should be aborted goes ahead anyway. You may thank me one day, Mary Jane," he called as the doors closed._

_But Mary Jane didn't hear that last part. She ran back into her apartment, slammed the door and crashed onto her sofa, sobbing hysterically, convinced that John had just dumped her. Notwithstanding his reassurances, she had no doubt that John intended to call off the wedding. She could hear her father, drunk, laughing at her in the midst of one of his all-night binges . . . "See! I was right! No man will ever want you!"_

* * *

Peter didn't know what to say, other than to express his sympathies. Still, it was vitally important that he find out exactly what the reason was for Mary Jane's anger toward him. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Mary Jane. But I still don't understand what all this has to do with Peter Parker." 

"Wait," she told him between sobs. "There's more."

* * *

_Suddenly, Mary Jane's thoughts turned to Peter Parker, that great big jerk who stood her up more times than she cared to count. He did this to her! Just as she's getting her life straightened out, he shows up out of the blue and starts in with his stupid mind games again. Did he really expect that she would just break off her engagement to a steady, reliable and devastatingly handsome hunk of a man just so she could be humiliated again? What nerve! _

_Mary Jane frantically went back over her conversation with John, moment by moment. What was it that he said . . . something about settling prior relationships . . . Oh my God! It can't be! John somehow got it into his head that she still had a thing for Peter. She realized that in order to salvage her engagement and get her wedding back on track, she had to disabuse Peter Parker of whatever illusions he had about "picking up where they left off." She would have to tell Peter, once and for all and in no uncertain terms, that there was nothing between them, that she was moving on with her life, and that she did not care to see him again. _

_Mary Jane picked up the phone and dialed Peter Parker's telephone number. But her hopes of doing it quickly and cleanly over the phone were quickly dashed when the robotic voice of the _Verizon _operator droned, "_We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please check the number and dial again"

"_Arrrrgghhhh!" she growled, furious that she would have to deal with Peter Parker face to face. Steeling her resolve, she put on her jacket, picked up her purse, and stomped out the door and into the night, looking for an address on the western side of Greenwich Village._

* * *

Peter just sat there, dumbfounded, unable to believe that anyone could have the consistent bad luck that seemed to be visited upon him with frightening regularity. For all of Mary Jane's insistence that it was too late, for all of her professed intent to tell him to buzz off, he had gotten through to her just enough to convince her fiancé that she still had feelings for somebody else. He had won! But now it was impossible for him to claim the fruits of his victory. His responsibilities would never allow it. His heart breaking, he realized that he could nothing other than help M.J. repair her relationship with John. The whole affair was so bizarre that it had become surrealistic. 

"I don't think things are quite as bad as you might think," Peter said, mustering whatever reassurances he could under the circumstances. "I mean . . . from what you just said,John just wants to be sure that you're ready to commit, that's all." He may have sounded objective and detached, but he sure didn't feel that way.

"I don't know," Mary Jane sniffed, her tears starting to flow again. She turned toward him and looked deeply into his mirrored eyepieces, as if searching for the windows on his soul. "Do you know what I'm really afraid of?" she asked.

Peter shook his head numbly.

"Facing Peter Parker again. Seeing those big blue eyes with that pathetic lost-puppy-dog expression."

"And why is that?" Peter asked in a subdued whisper.

"Because . . ." she sobbed, her voice breaking as she finally gave voice to the very thing that she had been struggling to deny, "I still love him."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"I know it sounds crazy," Mary Jane wept as she stared at the half-moon rising over the city. "But I just can't help it. I don't know how or why, but the only time I ever feel alive is when I'm around Peter Parker. The rest of the time, I'm just sleepwalking."

Peter felt his own resolve beginning to crack at the foundations. _Fighting off the Green Goblin was child's play next to fighting off Mary Jane Watson _. . .

"But I can't get into a serious relationship with him," Mary Jane went on. "He's just so . . . irresponsible and undependable . . . and unreliable."

Peter's face turned red beneath his mask. _Irresponsible? IRRESPONSIBLE! How can you say that, Mary Jane, after I just saved your ass? I've given up everything so that people like you could have a normal life. If that isn't responsibility, then what the hell is? _But there was no use in arguing. It was entirely his fault that Mary Jane felt that way.

M.J. turned back to Peter, as if she had actually sensed his reaction. "You think I'm a flake, don't you?" She asked, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

"No, I don't." Peter answered, wondering how he could still maintain an appearance of impartiality after the tongue-lashing she had unknowingly given him. "But it's hard to understand how anyone would want to marry someone when they're in love somebody else."

She smiled ruefully. "You've never been in love, have you?"

_If you only knew how much I want to tell you how I feel about you . . ._ "Well . . .er . . . I . . ." he stammered, unable to answer.

"I can't see how you'd have any time for someone," she continued. "I mean, with everything you do, it's hard to imagine you having a whole other life." She shifted her body around to face him completely. "Why can't I have a man like you?" she asked, resentful of having spend the rest ofher life in shallow relationships, but resigned to that fate. "You're the only one in the world who ever came through for me. You're perfect. . ." Even as her voice trailed off, Peter could see in her luscious green eyes once again a deep-seated longing.

"Don't ever say that about me, Mary Jane," Peter said, determined not to let her get the wrong idea about him. "I'm not perfect . . . far from it. I'm just an ordinary human being who ended up where he is through a freak accident. Nothing more." He could not bear to hold back any longer. "And yes, I'm in love."

A look of disappointment worked it's way across Mary Jane's lovely features. "You have a girlfriend?" she asked, visibly deflated.

"No," he answered, suddenly wanting to tell her as much of the truth as she could. "It's unrequited."

Mary Jane's eyes widened in shock. "What girl would be idiotic enough to turn you down?" she asked incredulously.

"She didn't. She told me she loved me. But I had to say no."

"For God sake, why," she asked, sensing that she was getting close to Spider-Man's heart.

"Because the ones that I love are my Achilles heel. Anyone who gets too close to me becomes a target for my enemies. I love this girl more than anything else in the world, maybe even more than life itself. But if anything ever happened to her because of me, I don't think I would ever be able to go on. There's an old saying; if you truly love someone, you'll let them go. So I let her go."

Mary Jane was so moved by his revelation that she started weeping. She could feel the deep sadness, the incredible loneliness, of the man behind the mask. This man, who had done so much for so many people, who had saved her life three times, had no one to save his. _How could life be so unfair_, she cried out silently. Once again, she fixed her gaze upon his eyepieces. This time, Peter saw intense concentration. Unbeknownst to him, she was sifting through her memories, especially of two kisses on two different occasions, two kisses that made her feel more alive than she had ever felt before or since. And suddenly, concentration gave way to a flash of intuition.

"I want you to do something for me," she said softly, barely above a whisper. "I want you to kiss me, just like you did in that alley, remember?"

"Kiss you?" a stunned Peter asked. "But . . . you're spoken for."

"Nobody speaks for me," she said resolutely. "Except me. Please . . . I really need to know something." And, just like before, she gently started to lift his mask up from the bottom. But instead of stopping part way, she just kept going.

Peter could smell her perfume as the mask cleared his nose. He made no move to stop her. He had no strength left to resist.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's confession: This was supposed to be the last chapter, but one of you had asked for a supervillian to appear, so . . .**

**Chapter Five**

Mary Jane was at a complete loss for words. The shock of seeing Peter's head atop Spider-Man's body had turned her whole world upside down and shattered whatever illusions she was harboring about marrying John Jameson. She just stared at Peter with a combination of elation, fascination, and shock. "I really don't know what to say," she whispered numbly as she gazed into his big blue eyes. "I mean . . . everything just sort of came together in my mind, but I only half-expected . . . I still can't believe it."

"Believe it, M.J." Peter urged softly as he reached out with his gloved hand to touch her cheek. "Now do you understand why I've been empty seat all these months?"

Tears began to well up again from behind her eyes. "Oh Peter, I can't believe I said those awful things about you . . . to you . . . forgive me, please." She leaned closer, lifting her lips toward his, intending to finish what she had started.

But Peter drew his face away from hers. He stroked her left hand, running his fingers lightly over her engagement ring. "You have to go back." he said, fighting to contain his own grief.

"What?" she gasped, dumbfounded, her mind refusing to accept what she had just heard.

"John told you to settle all your issues, didn't he? Well, now you know the truth about me, and you know why we can't be together. I guess that means those issues are settled."

"No they aren't settled!" Mary Jane shouted, more out of desperation than anger. "Can you really expect me to marry John, knowing what I know, knowing how I feel? You think I want a father-in-law who's always trashing the man who saved my life?" After a valiant effort to keep her composure, she lost it again, burying her face in her hands. "I can't survive without you, Peter," she wept. "I love you. And I know you love me."

Although Peter's demeanor was caring and compassionate, his convictions were unalterable. "Of course I love you, Mary Jane," he said gently, "And that's exactly why I have to let you go."

For the second time that evening, Mary Jane felt as if she was losing everything. But this time, it was far worse. "What about me?" she wailed. "Don't I get to have a say in this? I can't go through life only half-alive!"

Peter realized that he had his work cut out for him in trying to convince her that she would be better off without him. He wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders. "Look, M.J. The truth is, I'm struggling to support two households. I've been fired from seven jobs in six months. I can't pay my bills and I'm about an inch away from losing my scholarship. But on top of all that, I've still got my job to do." He quickly put his mask back on, so that Mary Jane would be spared the sight of his tears. "I'll always love you, M.J., but the bottom line is, I just can't be there for you. John can, and he will."

He looked into her beautiful, pleading eyes once more. "Believe me," he said, his voice a hairsbreadth away from breaking, "once you walk down that aisle in your beautiful white dress, you'll forget all about me . . . Now come on . . . he's waiting."

As he forced those words out of his mouth, Peter almost wished for a squadron of biplanes to appear out of the horizon and grant him a merciful ending. But he quickly stifled those horrible thoughts and turned to the business at hand, strapping M.J. to his back, this time with a lighter web mesh, to give her some more flexibility for the trip downward.

"Comfortable, M.J.?" he asked.

Mary Jane nodded, saying nothing. She just held onto him and shut her eyes tightly, bravely refusing to let another teardrop fall. But her grief at losing Peter was inconsolable.

Slowly, carefully, Peter began his descent from the summit of the Empire State building. He didn't even bother firing a webline. He just leaped from rooftop to rooftop in the general direction of Greenwich Village, taking his time, prolonging his last moments with the woman he loved as much as possible.

Just as they reached the outer edge of the Village, Peter's spider-sense went off. The reaction was so intense that everything around them appeared frozen. A deep angry bellow suddenly cut through the ominous silence, followed by an earsplitting crash.

From fifteen stories above Broadway, Peter and Mary Jane could clearly see the shattered remains of a black Lexus RX 330.

"Oh my God!" Mary Jane shrieked. "That's John's SUV!"

The driver's side of the vehicle had been torn away, as if struck by a very powerful projectile. Peter knew right away that this was an attack, not an accident. The modus operendi was unmistakable. "Alex," he growled, now in full battle mode.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's notes: **

**The background on the Rhino comes from the Marvel Encyclopedia on Spider-Man. **

"**Stukach," is the Russian word for government informant.**

**Chapter Six**

"Hang on Mary Jane!" Peter shouted as they rapidly descended toward the wreckage. "Are you sure it's John's? We're pretty high up and there are lots of black SUV's"

"Not like that one!" she replied frantically, her mind already churning out one worst-case scenario after another. _Please God, don't let anything happened to him,_ she prayed.

They both breathed a sigh of relief when they landed and saw that no one was inside the ruined vehicle. "Stay here!" Peter ordered.

"Do you have any idea who did this?" Mary Jane asked, still in shock, both over the destruction of the SUV and Peter's blink-of-an-eye transformation from love-sick young man to battle-hardened crime fighter.

"Alexsei Sytsevich," Peter called back over his shoulder, already taking off in pursuit. "Also known as the Rhino." He was well acquainted with Sytsevich, a one-time hit-man for a Moscow-based crime syndicate with branches in New York. Seduced by promises of wealth and power, Sytsevich had voluntarily undergone a series of cybernetic treatments in which a powerful exoskeleton, modeled on the hide of a rhinoceros, was permanently fused with his body, rendering him practically invulnerable to conventional police weaponry.

Peter had barely survived his first encounter with the Rhino, having taken a direct hit from that horn. But he had learned three important things from that episode that he hoped would be of use to him now. The first was that, once Systevich had gathered a full head of steam, he could not easily stop or change direction. The second was that he was quick-tempered and as dumb as a doornail, which meant that it wouldn't be that difficult to throw him off balance. The third, and perhaps the most critical, was that Sytsevich always left a trail, usually in the form of damaged buildings, destroyed vehicles, and panicked bystanders scrambling to get out of the way.

Sure enough, the trail was there, right down the center of Broadway. As Peter overtook his quarry, he saw that John Jameson was still alive, miraculously. Sytsevich was carrying him like a rag doll under one arm while charging up the street. He did not appear to be hurt, at least not seriously. But he looked rather comical, pathetically pounding the Rhino's arm in an effort to get the charging man-beast to let him go.

Peter quickly deduced what had happened. For months, the _Daily Bugle_ had been doing an exposé on the Russian Mafia and its shadowy connections to renegade elements of the former Soviet KGB. Peter himself had been assigned to the story and had done some dangerous undercover work to obtain photos, with nary a word of praise from his boss for having stuck his neck out. More than once, Jonah Jameson had received threats of retaliation, warning him very unsubtly to back off or there would be severe consequences. But instead of anticipating who was behind those threats, Jameson had accused Spider-Man of being in league with the Russians, making himself and his family notoriously easy targets for their most fearsome weapon. _It was only a matter of time,_ Peter thought anxiously as he raced to save the pompous, self-important publisher's son.

But he had a huge tactical problem on his hands. He quickly realized that he could not fire his webs into Sytsevich's eyes. Sytsevich weighed over seven hundred pounds, and if he went down the wrong way, John Jameson could be crushed. He would somehow have to get Sytsevich to let John go. He gestured to the captive astronaut to stay calm. The expression of relief on John's face at seeing Spider-Man was all too palpable. John signaled back that he understood.

"Hey Alex," Peter called out as he swung by the Rhino, "don't they feed you enough at the zoo?"

"You!" Sytsevich growled contemptuously in a thick Russian accent. "Stay out of my way, you worm. This is none of your business!"

"Sorry Alex. No can do." Peter replied. "Now are you going to be a good little boy and put the man down or do I have to spank you?"

"I'll squash you like an insect!" Sytsevich roared. Peter smiled under his mask. His tactic was working. The Rhino may have had a thick hide, but he sure had thin skin.

"Give it up Alex. You're a second-rate stukach who couldn't squash his babushka." He had once heard that calling a Russian a stukach was the ultimate insult. It had the desired effect. Snorting like a bull, Sytsevich forgot all about his mission and dropped John Jameson in the middle of the street. Fortunately, John had been blessed with considerable reflexes of his own, honed by extensive training, numerous spacewalks, and playing quarterback on the moon. He somehow managed to land on his feet and get out of the way of oncoming traffic.

Sytsevich, meanwhile had slowed down and come to a stop. He was right where Peter wanted him to be. "Toro, Toro!" Peter shouted, pretending to be a matator.

Furious, Sytsevich charged him. But Peter stood his ground, waiting for the right moment to get out of the way. A crowd of onlookers had gathered, gaping at the sight of the Rhino bearing down on Spider-Man. "Move, get out of there!" one little boy screamed. But Peter held up his hand, letting the crowd know that he knew what he was doing. "Come on Alex," he whispered. "Closer . . . closer . . . closer . . .Now!" The Rhino was less than two feet away from Peter when suddenly he leaped straight up, twisted around in mid-air, and landed squarely on Sytsevich's back. Systevich reared up, trying to shake him off. But Peter held on, locking his arms around the Rhino's neck, wrestling him to the ground like a linebacker who had just made a touchdown saving tackle.

The Rhino tried to roll over and crush him under the full weight of his armored body. But Peter, faster and far more agile, was able to get up just in time. Sytsevich flailed furiously at Peter with his fists, but couldn't strike anything other than empty air. Finally, Peter got into position, grabbed Sytsevich in a headlock and flipped him over, the asphalt cracking under the impact.

"Oh, and by the way Alex," Peter said as he picked up the groggy Rhino by the horn. "Spider's aren't insects. They're arachnids." Before Sytsevich knew what was happening, Peter delivered a punch to the face that knocked him out cold. _He probably couldn't figure out the difference anyway_, he thought as he webbed the Rhino up, tying his arms and legs together for the police.

John Jameson, meanwhile, hurried over to Spider-Man, shaking his hand profusely. "Thank you for saving me from that overgrown crackpot." he said breathlessly.

"Are you all right?" Peter asked, remembering what the Rhino had done to John's car.

"Yes," John answered. "But I wouldn't have been if he hit me head on. What about you?"

Peter was taken aback by John's expression of concern. It was the first time that he could remember anyone thinking about his welfare, much less the son of his detractor-in-chief. "I'm okay," he told the astronaut. Sirens off in the distance told him that the police were on their way. In the corner of his eye, he saw Mary Jane running towards them. He turned back to John and smiled beneath his mask. "There's somebody here to see you," he said, gesturing in her direction.

"Mary Jane!" John shouted as he ran toward his fiancée.

"Take good care of her," Peter whispered, his voice breaking, as he watched the two of them embrace.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_Two weeks later . . ._

Mary Jane Watson checked herself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, forcing herself to admire her shimmering white wedding dress, with its plunging neckline and accentuation of her ample cleavage. Every strand of her coiffed red hair was neatly in place, and the rouge and mascara she had been applying for hours properly accentuated her youthful beauty. Her mother and her maid of honor had taken their places inside the sanctuary. She was alone now, left by herself to contemplate her last few moments as a single girl.

This was the day that every young woman eagerly looked forward to. It should have been the most wonderful day of her life. But for Mary Jane, the anniversary of this day would always be marked by a huge dark asterisk.

The strains of Wagner's wedding march filtered into the bridal chamber, signaling that the processional was about to begin. It was time to get on with the rest of her life, a life of wealth and glamor, and maybe a little fame if her career took off. After all, this was what she wanted. No lamented, it wasn't what she wanted. It was what the man she loved wanted for her.

_I'm not going to cry_, she told herself yet again. The only reason she was able to keep to that pledge was that she literally had no tears left to cry. After her fiancé had nearly lost his life at the hands of that vicious human rhinoceros, she rushed into his embrace, tremendously relieved that he had escaped relatively unscathed, but feeling nothing more. Even as she hugged John, she was already looking beyond him, searching the buildings and rooftops for Peter, but finding no trace of him. Peter didn't even stick around long enough to say goodbye, not even a wave or an acknowledgment from above. He was just gone.

She had tried to call Peter on the phone whenever she was alone, but his line remained silent. He was refusing to return her calls, and she knew why. She also knew that it was tearing him up inside, just as much as it was her.

_How can this possibly be right?_ she had asked herself bitterly. Two people who loved each other intensely were being forced apart by a code of ethics she couldn't even begin to understand, let alone accept. _Why the hell can't he respect me enough to let me make my own decision . . ._

She thought about John, waiting for her up there at the altar. He was such a good, kind, loving, and caring man, nothing like his father. For the last two weeks, she had managed to pull off an Oscar-caliber performance in her role of bride-to-be, smiling for the cameras, helping John's mother with the arrangements, and abundantly showering affections on her future groom. She had somehow managed to convince John that she had resolved all of her outstanding issues with her previous suitors, and hoped, desperately, that her love for him would grow over the years. But alone at night, in the security and comfort of her own bed, she cried herself to sleep.

As she made her way to the doors, the two attendants made some last-minute adjustments to her train. Then the doors opened, and before she knew it, an audience that included dozens of New York's biggest big wigs all rose in their seats to admire her. Slowly, majestically, with her head held defiantly high and her chin up straight, she bravely stepped forward, one foot in front of the other toward her beaming groom, looking handsome and sharp in his tuxedo. But then, the thoughts of Peter that she had dutifully tried to suppress started popping up everywhere, and she couldn't stop them. Nor could she hold back her tears at the thought of never seeing Peter again. But she remained calm and dignified, with only a slight quiver of her lower lip betraying her grief.

"Isn't that lovely," the grooms mother commented to her irascible husband as Mary Jane passed them. "She's so happy she's crying."

"Harrumph!" growled Jonah Jameson under his breath, wondering whether this daughter-in-law he was about to get was really worth the aggravation. As soon as he'd heard about the kidnapping, he blew his stack, calling the Chief of the NYPD and screaming at him to put out an all points bulletin on Spider-Man. Then he ordered his apple-polishing star reporter to write an article accusing Spider-Man of abducting his son as a way to put pressure on him to cease his crusade against the webslinger's dangerous and reckless vigilantism. Bizarrely, it was not until after he had done these things that he finally ordered his obsequious accountant, Ted Hoffman, drive him out to the crime scene. By the time he arrived, John and Mary Jane were together, arm-in-arm. John hurriedly explained what had happened, but, unbelievably, Jonah had balked about retracting the accusatory article. It was not until John threatened to walk out of his father's life altogether did Jonah relent. But then Mary Jane had insisted that Jonah print a new article that recounted the truth about what happened to both of them that night. When Jonah suspiciously asked Mary Jane what she was doing on the streets by herself at night, she crisply and tersely said, "that is not your business." This girl had guts, Jameson grudgingly admitted to himself, more so than anyone on his staff, except Joe Robertson.

She reached the altar and took her place next to John, but not before glancing up at the ceiling, subconsciously hoping against hope that Pete would somehow be there, ready to rescue her from the abyss into which she was about to plunge. But all she saw wereornate designs that had been handcrafted nearly a century and a half earlier.

All hope gone from her eyes, Mary Jane turned with her groom to face the minister, who began intoning, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony . . ."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

In a strange sort of way, Mary Jane felt as if she were watching a wedding other than her own. A more apt description might have been a soap-opera wedding, which seemed oddly appropriate, given the circumstances under which it came to be.

The couple had opted for traditional vows. "Do you, John, take this woman Mary Jane, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to honor and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?" The minister asked John.

"I do." John said softly.

The minister turned to Mary Jane. "Do you, Mary Jane, take this man John, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to honor and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

_Come on girl, it's all for the _best, she had to remind herself, _Get on with it_. But just as M.J.'s lips had formed the word "I," there was an explosion from outside, followed by an ominous orange glow that suddenly appeared in the church's stained glass windows.

John, accustomed to being the take-charge guy in moments of crisis, held up his hands, telling the audience to remain calm. Meanwhile, one of his ushers had detached himself from the wedding formation and hurried outside to see what was wrong. He stuck his head inside the sanctuary, his face registering alarm, if not panic. "Everybody out!" he shouted. "There's a gas main break! They're evacuating the whole block!"

"Everyone, please stay calm!" John exhorted again, intending to be the last person out. "We don't want anybody getting hurt." Mary Jane wanted to remain with him, but he told her to get outside quickly and not to argue. He looked out over the crowd just in time to see his father making a quick beeline for the exit, cutting his way in front of two little girls and their parents. John didn't say anything, but the expression of disgust on his face told the whole story.

Outside, it looked as if storm clouds had suddenly converged. But the midday darkness had been caused by thick black smoke billowing from the condominium tower across the street from the church. A massive fire, no doubt caused by multiple gas leaks, was consuming the entire building. Within minutes, two N.Y.F.D battalions had converged on the scene, but it quickly became apparent that more would be needed. Even with the latest breakthroughs in firefighting technology, anything over the seventh floor would pose extremely difficult challenges. This building had twenty.

The police had cordoned off the area, but Mary Jane, John, and the rest of the wedding party had a ringside seat.

"Look!" someone in the crowd shouted, "It's Spider-Man!"

Mary Jane looked up just in time to see a streak of red and blue hurtling through the air.

"Go man, go!" yelled a big African-American with dreadlocks. The crowd broke into simultaneous applause as Spider-Man landed on the burning building and quickly scuttled inside one of the few windows that were not spurting flames.

But one person in the crowd was not enamored of the webslinger. "What are you all, a bunch of idiots!" Jonah Jameson shouted, struggling to make himself heard above the crowd noise. "That weasly crawler probably caused the whole thing!"

Mary Jane's face fell. She couldn't believe that Jonah Jameson had the gall to continue his malicious smear campaign against Peter after he had saved the lives of his son and soon-to-be daughter-in law. She wasn't even thinking about her wedding anymore. The only thing that concerned her at the moment was Peter, who was up there risking his life, trying to save others while this moron was shooting off his big mouth, foisting his own warped view of reality on an unreceptive public.

Almost immediately, boos, hisses and catcalls started emanating from the people nearby.

"Shut up you joik!" one lady screamed.

John immediately sprang to Spider-Man's defense. "Dad!" he snapped. "Shut your mouth!"

One of the invited guests, the chairman of New York's biggest real estate developer, echoed John's sentiments.

For the next hour or so, the crowd watched in silent fascination as Spider-Man kept bringing people out through different windows, all while managing to stay one step ahead of the fire. The fire department had set up inflatable safety pads, which allowed Spider-Man to drop some of his charges to safety. But he still brought the children and the elderly down to the street himself.

But Jameson would not back off from his increasingly ridiculous pontifications, despite John's best efforts to contain him. Even as Peter was struggling with his rescue mission, Jameson was sternly lecturing John, Mary Jane and anyone else within earshot about Spider-Man's nefarious ways, and the lengths to which the webslinger would go to promote himself. What had shocked and angered Mary Jane most of all was the apparent ease with which Jameson was able to twist the facts around and put his own brand of spin on them, so that no matter what Spider-Man did, he could always be portrayed as the villain. It was like the Rhino incident never happened. She was fast reaching her boiling point.

Finally, Spider-Man emerged from one of the upper windows and signaled to the EMS squad below that there was no one else left inside the building. It would later be reported that he single-handedly rescued close to one hundred people.

But something was dreadfully wrong. Even from a distance, Mary Jane could see that Peter's movements were wobbly and unsteady, and that he was struggling to hold onto the wall. _Come on Pete, you can make it_, she urged silently, _just a little more_. Suddenly, Peter lost his grip. Mary Jane screamed as she saw him fall thirty feet and land with a thud on a ledge. One costumed arm was dangling from the ledge, unmoving.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Mary Jane frantically pushed her way through the police barricade, toward the big, burly N.Y.P.D. Officer responsible for crowd control. "Spider-Man's hurt," she cried. "Get somebody up there before the fire gets to him!" The fire was burning out of control on the upper floors, its flaming tendrils lapping less than five feet from where the webslinger lay.

"Take it easy, lady," the cop said, "We're doing everything we can. He's too high up for any of us to reach, but an emergency medical evac chopper's on the way. Now get back behind the barricade and watch out for flying glass."

Just as Mary Jane had turned around, her almost-father-in-law was practically in her face, her bridegroom two steps behind. Jameson abruptly shoved his way past her and started yelling at the cop. "What are you waiting for? Arrest that wall crawling menace! Get up there and take his mask off before he gets away!"

Unlike his high-level superiors, and most of the city's political class, however, the officer was not intimidated by the pompous publisher. For that matter, the cop didn't even know who he was. "I'm sorry sir," he replied frostily, "but we can't reach him from below, and even if we could, this man has rights."

"The hell he does!" Jameson barked back. "He's trampled on everyone else's rights for too long, and now he has to answer for it!"

Suddenly, there was a collective gasp from the crowd. "Look! He's getting up!" It was true. Somehow, miraculously, Spider-Man was on his feet. His costume was covered with soot, but otherwise, he appeared none the worse for having swallowed a ton of smoke. He briefly waved to the crowd below, signaling that he was alright, and was answered by sustained applause, much to the chagrin of J. Jonah Jameson. Then he fired his webline, and slowly, tentatively swung away, over the rooftops and out of sight.

"Excuse me," said a familiar voice from behind Mary Jane. The minister had worked his way through the crowd and had found his way to where the Jamesons, father and son, were standing. "I'm afraid we will not be able to return to the church for a day or two," he explained to John. "We can wait, or, if you prefer, we can finish the ceremony right here."

"Mary Jane," John asked, "What do you want to do?"

But Mary Jane was in a different frame of mind. She had been following Spider-Man's trajectory and appeared to be intent on following him. She turned back to John, a sorrowful, apologetic look on her face. "I'm sorry John," she said sadly as she removed her engagement ring from her finger.

Jonah Jameson saw what was happening. His face turned red. He looked like a volcano about erupt. "Just where do you think you're going, young lady?" he demanded angrily.

"As far away from you as I can get!" Mary Jane snapped as she turned back to John and handed him the ring. "I can't deal with him anymore," she said with a finality which signaled in no uncertain terms that their relationship was over. She turned from him and started to walk away.

John's eyes widened in shock. His face had the look of a man who was about to lose everything. "Mary Jane, please," he begged. "We're all shocked and upset by what happened today. Let's just take a few days to calm down and think things over." He grabbed her arm.

"Let go of me!" Mary Jane shouted, twisting away.

Jameson sprang to his son's defense. "So help me, Mary Jane," he warned harshly. "If you walk out on us now, after what we spent on this shindig, you're finished! I'll sue your pretty little butt off! I'll use every ounce of influence I have in this town to make sure you never work again, not even as a prostitute!"

Mary Jane had reached her threshold moment. In front of numerous witnesses, including two reporters from a rival tabloid, she spit right in his face. "Go screw yourself, Jonah!" she hissed. Then she disappeared into the crowd.

"Nice going, Dad," John said bitterly as the witnesses clapped their hands and cheered. Grinning from ear to ear, the two reporters hastily jotted down notes. One of them whipped out his cell phone to call their editor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Mary Jane's feet pounded up the rickety stairs in the rundown apartment building five blocks from the E.S.U. campus as her heart pounded inside her chest. Her hair was disheveled, her mascara was running, and her wedding gown was dotted and streaked with soot. But she did not care. She never felt happier than she did when she threw away the life of wealth and privilege that had been offered to her in a defiant expression of liberation. Shewas her own person now, determined to live by her own dreams, not as a reflection of other people's expectations, or in her father's case, lack thereof.

The second-floor corridor was empty and quiet, except that someone was taking a shower. Mary Jane glanced around, wondering if she was in the right place. Then she saw the number on a partially-open door that matched the mailbox she had seen just inside the entrance. Girding herself, she ventured up to the door and knocked . . . once . . . twice. "Peter," she called out softly as she cautiously pushed the door back. No answer. Swallowing nervously, she stepped across the threshold and into the apartment.

The place was so spartan that could have easily passed for the living quarters of a novice at a monastery. The walls were cracked, the paint was chipped, and a single solitary light bulb hung from a cord that reached halfway down from the ceiling. The only furnishings consisted of a plain-looking bed, a two-drawer chest, and a second-hand cubic refrigerator that was the standard issue of college dormitory life. Peter didn't even have a nightstand; his lamp rested on a plastic crate. The only luxury item in the apartment, if it could be called that, was a pair of rickety French doors with stains on the glass that afforded a view of the top of the Empire State Building off in the distance.

Mary Jane gaped at the destitution she saw around her. She knew that Peter had been struggling, but she never imagined that he could be in such dire straits financially. She felt like Snow White entering the dwarfs' cottage for the first time. Like the fairy tale princess, she wanted to grab a broom and tidy up the place.

M.J. looked at the bed again, this time more closely. Clothes lay strewn about, including a pair of boxers. _Well, that mystery's been solved_, she laughed to herself. There were also a few books scattered about: differential equations; quantum mechanics; and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's _The Song of Hiawatha_. Curious, she picked up the book and opened it to the page that Peter had marked. Her eyes opened wide when she read "The Four Winds" . . . _Day by day he gazed upon her . . . _Startled, she nearly dropped the book as she realized that he really_ was_ reading poetry, trying to find words to express his love for her. But then she saw pictures of herself scattered around the room; the shot he'd taken of her at that high school field trip to Columbia University, the hear-/see-/speak-no-evil poses she had given him at Coney Island about a year ago. That said it all. A solitary teardrop fell from her right eye.

Mary Jane was so engrossed in her thoughts that sound of the shower being turned off barely registered with her. The door to the bathroom opened and a familiar voice began to mournfully sing a Johnny Cash classic, slightly off-key: " . . . and I ain't seen the sunshine since, I don't know when . . . I'm stuck in Folsom Prison . . . and time keeps drag. . ." Peter swung the door open and stopped dead in his tracks. Startled, Mary Jane whirled around in time to see Peter standing ten feet away from her framed by the doorway, open-mouthed, wearing nothing but a ratty robe, his hair still wet from the shower. He was red all over.

Thinking that Peter was just blushing from embarrassment at his state of undress, Mary Jane smiled. "A word of advice, Tiger," she said affectionately, "Don't quit your day job anytime soon."

"Mary Jane . . ." was all he could manage to say.

"Surprised?" she asked.

"You really shouldn't be here," he said slowly, noticing how disheveled she looked for a bride on her wedding day. "John's probably out looking for you."

Mary Jane didn't say anything. She just shook her head. She could tell by looking into Peter's eyes that he was not altogether unhappy to see her.

"What happened?" Peter asked, still dumbfounded.

"I told John's father to stick his editorials where the sun doesn't shine."

"You did what!" he exclaimed, slowly beginning to understand.

"I told him off . . . In front of everyone." Peter quickly understood that there wasn't going to be any wedding that day, or perhaps ever.

Peter's eyes went wide, and then rolled up. "How could you do a thing like that, Mary Jane?" he asked frantically. "It's bad enough that Jonah has it in for me. Now he's gonna screw up your life, too." He shook his head sadly, wondering if he was the only one in the room who had any sense of the coming repercussions. "Oh, Mary Jane . . . You had everything being handed to you on a silver platter. For God's sake, why did you throw it all away?"

But Mary Jane steadfastly held her ground. "Because I love you, not John." She rushed over to him and embraced him, nuzzling her cheek right up to his. But when he grimaced in obvious pain, it dawned on her that the redness on his skin was not a blush. It was a burn. "Oh my God!" she gasped. "Peter, you're still hurt."

"Take it easy, M.J.," Peter replied calmly. "I heal very fast. It'll be gone in a few hours. Trust me." He grasped her by the shoulders and was about to repeat his standard stump speech about why they couldn't be together.

But before he could say anything, she cut him off. "I know exactly what you're going to say, Peter" she said with a firmness of conviction that he had never before seen in her. "And I know you thought you were doing the right thing when you pushed me away. But you're wrong. All you're doing is forcing two people apart who belong together." She gently put her hand on his cheek, careful not to press too hard. "Even when John proposed to me, I was thinking about you. I never wanted to marry him. The only reason I was seeing him at all was to . . ." she hesitated for a moment, lowering her head in shame. " . . . make you jealous. But I was so pissed at you for standing me up when I saw you at the planetarium that night that I let things get out of control. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was planning a wedding."

Peter's eyes went wide at this revelation. He felt a little shocked. All the time and effort he put into wooing her back, all the heartache, all the angst that came from quitting his responsibilities; it was all for naught. It suddenly occurred to him that if he told her straight out that he loved her on the night he finally saw _The Importance of Being Earnest,_ she might have come back to him that very moment. But in his view, she still wasn't thinking straight.

"M.J., even if Spider-Man were not an issue, I couldn't even begin to offer you what John could. You know that. I can't even afford to take you to the movies. And guess what? I'm just one paycheck away from being homeless. Is that the kind of life you want?"

"If it's with you, yes." she replied resolutely, her position as hard as his pectorals. "I would live in a tree in Central Park if it meant we could be together."

Peter blinked, his armor finally beginning to crack. "Really?"

"You bet your gorgeous butt I would." She affirmed, flashing her megawatt smile at him. "The only reason you're struggling is because you're trying to do everything yourself. But you can't. No one can." She looked into his eyes, pleading for him to understand. "You need me Peter," she said, her voice starting to break. "As much as I need you, you need me. I want to take care of you while you take care of the city. I want to be there for you when you come home."

"But . . . what about . . . John?"

"John understands, believe me. He'll get back on his feet, and probably very soon."

But Peter was still cautious. "And Jonah," he asked, looking away from her. "You realize that when the spaghetti hits the fan, he's going to tell his theater people to lace it into you. You could be back waiting tables again. Or worse."

Mary Jane remained unperturbed, however. "Peter," she said softly, "Let's not worry about those problems unless they become problems. Stop looking for reasons to keep us apart. We'll manage." Their lips were less than an inch apart, and the gap was closing fast.

Peter's eyes were moistening. He could see that her love for him was as absolute and unconditional as his love for her. "Day by day he sighed with . . ." he started to recite. Unable to remember the rest of it, he abandoned his effort. "Aww, the heck with it," he whispered. I love you, Mary Jane Watson."

"Tiger, that's the most poetic thing you've ever said," Mary Jane replied as her lips parted for the oncoming kiss.

"Uh . . . M.J. . . . I need to um . . . get out of this robe."

"You're right," she said as she gently closed his door. "And I need to get out of this dress. Hope you don't have any plans tonight."

Peter shook his head and cracked a smile as he lowered his venetian blinds.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

"And your grandpa and I have been together ever since," Mary Jane Parker said as she reclined on the king-sized bed that she shared with her husband of forty-one years, concluding her bedtime story. Her arms were wrapped around her six-year-old granddaughters, Jessica and Jennifer Yama, the children of May Reilly Parker-Yama and James Yama. In her lap, sucking on his bottle, lay her grandson, three-month-old Peter Benjamin Parker II, son of Benjamin Richard Parker and Donna Lambert-Parker, affectionately called "Repete" by his father and grandfather, "Cousin Petey" by the twins, and "Little Tiger," by his grandmother.

Jennie looked perplexed. "I don't understand, Grandma. Wasn't Mr. Jonah mad at you for spitting on him and running away from John?"

"Oh yes he was, angel," Mary Jane replied earnestly. "And he wanted to make all sorts of trouble, telling the people who wrote articles for his newspaper to say bad things about Grandma so that people wouldn't want to see her shows. But you know what happened?"

Confused, the little girl shook her head.

"John told him to leave Grandma alone and stop writing lies about Grandpa. And he did."

But Jessie, the more precocious twin, in a display of perception that one could only describe as remarkable for a small child, gave Mary Jane a lovingly stern lecture about the ethics of romance. "Grandma, it wasn't right for you to make John blame his daddy for making you run away. You should have told John and Mr. Jonah the truth, that you loved Grandpa."

Mary Jane smiled and sighed. _No use trying to put anything past these little kiddiewinkies_, she realized. "Honey, you're absolutely right. That is exactly what I should have done. But sometimes telling the truth is not easy, especially when we don't want to admit it to ourselves. But you'll be happy to know that all was forgiven. John didn't stay mad at Mr. Jonah for very long. He married somebody else and is now living happily ever after on the Moon, running the big base up there. We still good friends. And he's always been a big fan of Grandpa."

The baby, meanwhile, had let the now-empty bottle slip out of his mouth, and was starting to nod off. Mary Jane gently picked him up, put him on her shoulder and gently patted his back. Contented, Peter II burped, and then made another noise that sounded like a burp, but wasn't.

"Okay, you little munchkins," Mary Jane gently ordered as she got up from the bed, still carrying Peter II over her shoulder. "Time for bed."

"Awww Grandma, you said we could stay up and watch one of your old movies." Jessie argued, obviously stalling for more time. "I want to see the movie you won the gold statue for." She pointed to the Oscar statuette standing atop her grandma's dresser. Mary Jane had won the 2014 Best Actress Oscar for her portrayal of Karla Faye Tucker in_ Liberating Light_, the true story of a convicted murderess who became a born-again Christian while awaiting her execution.

"That was before the story," Mary Jane reminded them. "Besides, that movie's not for kids anyway. I didn't even let your mommy watch it until she was seventeen.

"I don't wanna see a movie!" Jennie said emphatically. "I wanna watch . . ." she turned her head toward the wall opposite the bed and yelled, "Spongebob!"

Programmed to respond to voice commands, the wall was instantaneously transformed into a floor-to-ceiling flat-screen holovision that conveyed the story of Bikini Bottom and it's quirky inhabitants in three dimensions. But to Jennie's disappointment, the show was coming to an end, with Plankton notching up yet another failure in his nearly fifty-year quest to steal the crabby patty formula from Mr. Krabs.

"That's not fair!" Jennie pouted.

But Mary Jane stuck to her guns. "Now kids," she said firmly. "I promised Mommy that you'd be asleep when she got back. So come on, brush your teeth and lets get going."

"Can we sleep with you tonight, Grandma?" the girls begged in unison. "Please!"

Mary Jane quickly found a way to discourage that ambition. "Well . . . okay. But you have to do something first."

"What?" they asked eagerly.

"Help me change Little Tiger."

"Eeewwwwwwww!" they squealed, jumping out of their grandmother's bed and scurrying down the hall to the bathroom.

_Gets 'em every time_, Mary Jane laughed silently as she quickly changed Peter II and put him in his crib for the night, musing about him acquiring his powers while still an infant and crawling all over the ceiling.

With their teeth freshly scrubbed, they headed off to Grandma and Grandpa's guest bedroom, still clutching their Disney dolls. As she tucked the girls into their beds, Mary Jane noticed Jennie staring at her wedding picture. Despite the overwhelming prevalence of rear-screen digital holography, M.J. still insisted on keeping a few hard-copy pictures around.

"Grandma," Jennie asked softly, Minnie Mouse safely tucked under her arm. "You look the same as you did at your wedding. How come you don't get old?"

"Awww, that's so lovely for you to say," Mary Jane replied as she kissed her granddaughter's forehead. "I guess it comes down to eating right, getting lots of exercise, a touch of modern medicine, and lots of TLC from Grandpa.

"What's TLC?" Jennie wanted to know.

It was Jennie's sister, older by less than a minute, who passed on her worldly wisdom to her sibling.

"It's when Grandma and Grandpa get all kissey-faced!" Jessie exclaimed.

"Eeewwwwwww!" the girls shrieked in unison, diving under the covers.

"That's icky!" Jennie exclaimed from the relative safety of her hiding place.

"Relax, girls," Mary Jane said reassuringly. "Your mommy will explain it all to you when you're a little older." She had observed the same prudishness in her own daughter. It was a Parker family trait that went all the way back to Grandpa's Aunt May.

"Hey, Grandma," demanded Jessie. "Tell us about the time Aunt Donna thought you were Mommy!"

Mary Jane laughed, fondly recalling when Ben brought his fiancée home to meet his family. May hadn't arrived home yet, and Donna had somehow mistaken Mary Jane for her daughter. In a mischievous inside joke, mother and son had let the conversation go on for twenty minutes before letting Donna in on their little secret. An open-mouthed, red-faced Donna demanded to know why Ben let her embarrass herself like that. But Mary Jane had put her at ease, telling her how flattering it was for anyone to think that she was still in her twenties. Even now, Peter constantly reminded her that she didn't look a day over forty.

"Grandma," Jessie asked as Mary Jane got up to switch off the light, "Where is Mommy anyway?"

"Mommy's out with Uncle Ben and Grandpa," M.J. answered. "They're on patrol."

"Swinging around the city in their spider costumes and beating up bad people?" inquired Jennie.

Mary Jane sat down on the edge of the bed. "Hopefully, they won't have to beat anybody up. But . . . yes. That's what they're doing.

"Really?" an awestruck Jessie asked her grandma.

Mary Jane nodded proudly. "Your mommy and Uncle Ben got their powers from Grandpa. It's a special gift. For many years, Grandpa was all alone, trying to make New York City a safer place for everyone. But then when Mommy and Uncle Ben became teenagers, they got their powers too. So, for the last fifteen years or so, they've been helping Grandpa.

"Don't you worry about them?" Jessie wanted to know, the concern in her own voice evident.

"All the time, sweetheart," replied Mary Jane. Even after forty years, not a day went by when she didn't think about the safety of her husband and children.

"But Grandma," a puzzled Jennie asked. "Isn't Grandpa getting too old for that?"

Mary Jane smiled. "I don't think so, honey. Your grandpa will be doing this until he's a hundred and fifty. But eventually, he will stop, and Mommy and Uncle Ben will take over for him completely." She gently tousled both girls' hair. "And one day, you'll take over from them."

"You mean, we'll we get those powers too?" asked a wide-eyed Jessie.

"Yes sweetie, you will," Mary Jane answered matter-of-factly.

"Cousin Petey too?" inquired Jennie.

"Cousin Petey too. And so will your kids, and theirs, and so on."

"Does that mean we'll have to chase bad guys?" Jessie was already thinking about the implications.

"Honey, what you do with your powers will be up to you," Mary Jane reminded her grandchild. "But always remember this; with great power comes . . ." she pointed at the kids, cuing them to see if they remembered the most important lesson that Grandpa had taught them.

"Great responsibility!" the girls chorused together. "Good night, Grandma."

"Good night guys," Mary Jane said softly as she turned off the light. "Remember, tomorrow morning, I'm taking you to the skypool up on the roof."

"Yaaaayyy!" the girls cheered, looking forward to swimming in a pool located three thousand feet above sea level.

**THE END**

**Author's Note: My humblest thanks to all those who took the time to review this story. I don't know when I'll be writing again, but hopefully, I've left open some interesting possibilities. FPR**


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